


Lost and Found Part 1

by ForensicSpider98



Series: Love After the Fact [43]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, All this stress is bad for the baby, Altean Adam (Voltron), Altean Prince Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Balmeran Hunk (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Galra Shiro (Voltron), Galran Prince Keith (Voltron), Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Olkari Pidge | Katie Holt, Post-War, it's keith. keith is the baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24409150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForensicSpider98/pseuds/ForensicSpider98
Summary: Shiro and his team are sent to retrieve a high-profile individual. They don't exactly get what they came for.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Alfor/Coran (Voltron), Allura/Lotor/Romelle (Voltron), Haggar/Zarkon (Voltron), Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Love After the Fact [43]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635043
Comments: 48
Kudos: 208





	Lost and Found Part 1

They’ve been riding all day, Shiro and his team. The pine forest isn’t at all one of the roughest places to be, though it isn’t the easiest either. Wild wolves roam the ground and kronil loom in the trees. Not to mention vakalt, grinongins, and riesmekts.

“Remind me again what Zarkon wants with this traitor,” one of his men grumbles. Haxus, as usual. _Patience yields focus._

“He wants to see his littermate, so he has asked us to summon him to the Imperial Compound. Akira hasn’t seen the Emperor since before Prince Lotor was born, and he reportedly has a kit of his own now.”

“A kit? As in one, single kit?” Ulaz asks, confused. “Are he and Emperor Zarkon far apart in age?”

“His mate’s been serving nearly twenty decaphoebs, so no. Just one, nearly grown.” Shiro frowns. “Odd, but maybe there's a reason. We’re nearly there.”

“We should be out killing Alteans, not inviting traitors over for dinner,” Haxus bites.

Shiro suppresses a sigh. All Haxus cares about is killing. He himself has begun to grow tired of it, suspects that perhaps his liege has as well. Zarkon’s marriage to an Altean managed to settle their disputes for a while, but the citizens were still finding each other a… ‘nuisance’. 

With the invention of prolonged space travel, both peoples were struggling to be kind to their closest neighbor. So different from one another, Daibazaal’s first visit from Alteans had led to misunderstandings. The discovery that they were not alone had rapidly shifted from a relief to an inconvenience, then on into war.

“What the-” Drama turns, peering with keen eyes into a particular stand of trees. 

Shiro twists to look. “What is it?” 

The lieutenant frowns, suspicious as she inspects the forest. “I thought I saw something.”

“A kronil, sir?” Firn draws his sword. “Should we form up?”

Sniffing the air, Shiro rotates his ears, surveying the forest. “... I don’t smell anything, but yes. Drama, take point. Entri, take her left. Firn and Grat, take her right. Stagger yourselves. Sendak, Haxus, flank on either side and just behind us. Make sure nothing comes up on us from the back.”

“Yes, sir!” The squad rearranges their elk, keeping the disturbance and their firepower on their right. Shiro remains in the middle, where he can more easily monitor everyone.

“Sir? What if-”

“Don’t worry, Entri.” Shiro turns back to smile at the young soldier. The Galra has very little experience. Shiro's taken the youth on more as a favor than anything else, but she has talent. She’s just a little more timid than Shiro would prefer.

“Kronil are dangerous, but if it was a kronil, we’d likely smell it by now. It’s probably just a primate.” To Shiro’s relief, that seems to set Entri at ease.

“It was bigger than a primate,” Drama whispers. “But I agree it wasn’t a kronil. Thank the gods. I’m not in the mood to get turned inside out today.”

“Maybe tomorrow?” Grat teases.

“Alteans?” Sendak murmurs, gaze piercing the trees. 

“Doubtful. If it was an Altean, we’d have seen white or nothing at all.” Shiro scans the edge of the forest for- there it is. A small trail cut into the trees. He frowns, eyeing the-

“A bit overgrown, isn’t it?” Drama murmurs. “Looks pretty unused.” 

Sendak grunts in agreement. “What respectable bearer would want to live in the woods like a hermit?”

“General Krolia,” Grat whispers in awe.

“No fuckin’ way,” Sendak counters.

“Way. She ran off with Akira several decaphoebs before her first season!”

“So a traitor and a runt. Sounds like a perfect match,” Sendak grunts.

Shiro rolls his eyes. Haxus and Sendak sound like an equally perfect match.

“She’s advanced faster than you, sergeant. She’ll be a commander before long,” Ulaz murmurs. “Took over Akira’s required service. Better for the kit, I suppose. Or perhaps Akira refused to fight. He left in protest of the empire.”

With a hum, Shiro pushes to the front, black cloak falling over his elk’s back. “We’ll have to go through in a file formation. Haxus, right behind me. Sendak at the back. Everyone stay close and watch the trees.”

A short ride into the trees, and they come across a den. It’s simple, traditional, three connected domes, stones sealed together with clay, a sun- and weather-beaten cloth covering the entrance. The top of one of the small domes has crumbled inward. The oven in front, a collection of stones, seems long since crumbled to pieces, the fire pit charred.

“Sir, are you sure there’s someone living here?” Firn whispers. “It seems abandoned.”

Firn is right. Frowning, Shiro dismounts his elk, passes the reins to Haxus. It looks like no one’s cared for this den in a centaphoeb. Everything is quiet and still. Ulaz dismounts, coming up behind him as he crouches in front of the fire pit.

“It’s warm.” Someone _is_ here, but something is very clearly not right. He turns to Ulaz, whispers quietly. “Watch my back.”

Creeping toward the den, Shiro readies his blade, keeping it loose in its sheath. Ears pricked, he pushes the tattered cloth aside. He notices that someone attempted to mend a hole in it, tried with an unsteady hand to reinforce the fraying edges.

Inside, the furniture stands still among scattered earth, leaves and twigs. Ulaz whistles softly, points to scrapes trailing from the legs of a small stool. In another, larger chair, is a threadbare blanket. Careful not to touch it, Shiro sniffs the fabric. The scent is strong. Fresh. 

Ulaz comes after him, sniffing the blanket. “Sir.”

Shiro nods. It doesn’t smell at all like a Galra of breeding age. It’s soft, sweet, young. In need of protection. The kit. He offers the sire of one, about to be four, a communicative look. Ulaz nods. He can handle this. 

They’ve both experienced this before, and it doesn’t get easier.

A rustle to their left, and Shiro keeps point, Ulaz watching his back in case it’s a diversion.

This room is for sleeping, a tattered bed still hanging from the ceiling. A sense of dread begins to simmer in Shiro’s chest as he eyes the single indentation in the thinly stuffed bed.

“Sir.”

“I know. I see it.”

A commotion outside has them running, Sendak’s shout raising alarm. Shiro skids to a stop, notices one of their elk is down, his soldiers glaring up into a tree. Entri has her sword drawn, Firn and Grat have their bows, and Drama is seething. Sendak throws a rock and-

A yowl in response. Shiro runs up, stares up into the branches of a nearby pine. His jaw drops, heart falling with it.

In the tree is a scrawny, naked kit, hissing, snarling, glaring down, ears pressed flat against their skull. Feral. Kits always go feral left alone like this. It happens too often, and there's not always anything they can do for them. One this old? Shiro doesn't like their chances.

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s your name?” Entri asks. Trying, but lacking the needed experience.

“Fuck that shit.” Sendak surges forward. “You! Get your ass down from that tree right now, or we will _shoot_ you down!”

The kit hisses, shrinking as small as they can in the tree. The strip of longer, thicker fur down their back stands straight on end. It’s clearly been a while since they saw another person. They're timid, not eager for a fight. It's a good sign. It suggests they recognize their own kind.

“Sendak, stand down. Everyone get back.” Everyone steps back as Shiro steps forward, Drama still grumbling about her dead elk. “Right.”

The kit shifts, eyeing him as he approaches.

“Well, well, well. Intersex. Not every day you see one of those, eh Shiro?” Haxus snickers. “Oh, and a tail. Weren’t for their size, they’ll be downright pretty when they grow up.”

It’s true. The kit has to be around seventeen to fit the timeline, and yet they are indeed small, still on the slender side. Their tail is wrapped tightly around the branch as they lean forward, hissing fiercely, claws extended, digging into the bark of the branch. A tangled braid hangs down their back.

“Hey. It’s alright.” Shiro sets his blade down on the ground, holds his hands up in surrender. The kit growls, huddles against the trunk of their tree. “Do you have a name?”

They only hiss, eyes narrowed to slits.

“Okay, it’s okay. Um.” Shiro hesitates. “Do you- Do you know a man by the name of Akira?”

The kit blinks, softening enough to reveal large, violet eyes. 

“Is- Is he your sire? Do you know him?”

Curling against the trunk of the tree, the kit’s ears droop. Seems they can understand what Shiro’s saying, but he has a sickening suspicion that they haven’t had someone to speak to in some time.

“Where’s your sire, kitten?” Shiro murmurs. “What happened here, hm?” After a long pause, the kit relaxes a bit.

“Hey.” Shiro reaches up to try and touch them, but they flinch, curling tighter against the tree. The sun is going down, cold starting to creep in. Shiro cuts the cloak from his armor, hangs it on a branch just below the skittish stray. They stare at it for a second, glancing between him and the cloak, then slowly reach down, lifting it up to their own branch. 

“You can have it. It’s nice and warm. And don’t worry about the elk. It’ll taste good, and we can get another one when we get back to the compound. Nobody’s mad-” _Please keep your fucking mouths shut, guys._ “-and we’re all good, okay?”

Sniffing the cloak suspiciously, they seem to find it satisfactory, wrapping it around their shoulders, still curling into the tree trunk. Now that their alarm has dissipated, all that’s left is a trembling kit sitting mostly naked on a tree branch. 

“Okay.” Shiro breaths out soft and slow, takes careful steps back, his squad following his lead. “When- When you’re ready, maybe you can come down?”

The kit stares at him for a long moment, then ties the cloak so it hangs off one shoulder. They sit quietly in the tree, watching. Shiro turns away. “Alright, soldiers. Let’s set up camp. We need to figure out what happened here.”

Up in the tree, a pair of violet eyes doesn’t waver for an instant, following the captain wherever he goes as night sets in.

**Author's Note:**

> Next time on Love After the Fact: Part 2


End file.
